


what we do for each other

by atonalremix



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Character Study, F/M, MakoGoro Week, Persona 5 Spoilers, Rivalry, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atonalremix/pseuds/atonalremix
Summary: A late night, impromptu study session in Sis's office reminds Makoto of just how dangerous Akechi can be – and how she still feels the urge to help him anyway.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Niijima Makoto
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	what we do for each other

Sis needed yet another set of clothes delivered to her office. 

Makoto had grown used to such requests by now. Sis’s job as a Public Prosecutor often involved long, late-night reviews with nary a coffee break in sight – and of course, with Makoto delivering extra clothes and blankets to facilitate those lengthy work hours. 

“ _I’m so close to finding a breakthrough_ ,” Sis had promised over the phone. “ _Just one more night…_ ” 

Then again, every night had become ‘one more night.’ Especially as the current case on the Phantom Thieves loomed over their shoulders– and Sis’s methods turning more dangerous to uncover the Thieves’ identities.

Makoto had planned to only meet her sis at the entrance, but another quick text had told her to drop the clothes in Sis’s office.

The lights were still on, at least. Sis must be awake, or at least coherent. (Thank goodness for caffeine; Sis practically lived off espresso shots and willpower these days.)

As Makoto twisted the doorknob, however, she can’t quite say she expected to hear someone else’s footsteps. They were lighter than Sis’s, with an even-heeled stride – and none of Sis’s loud, frantic pacing. A little familiar, too; she had heard them before, though she couldn't quite place them in her memory. 

“Niijima-san?” Goro Akechi’s voice called from behind the door. 

Makoto froze. Her fingers gripped the doorknob with unusual force, unwilling for it to open. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should have just texted her sister an apology and turned tail, or maybe indicated that she couldn’t find Sis, or _some_ sort of tired excuse that would let her leave with her dignity intact–

“It’s okay,” Akechi’s too-honeyed, saccharine voice continued as his footsteps grew closer. “Sae-san had to step out for a minute, and she told me you would be dropping by.”

“Oh, she did?” Makoto felt like a hoarse parrot, but Akechi didn’t seem to mind. “That’s… good, I think.”

“I’m sorry I’m the one to greet you instead, but come in.” 

He twists the doorknob for her and steps to the side. Even at this hour, he’s still dressed in his school uniform, with only a loosened tie as a concession to the evening. His sleeves are wrinkled; his left palm is stained with black ink; and even his bangs seem messier than usual. 

Akechi must’ve been here a while. _Sis_ and Akechi must’ve been working on this case for far longer than Makoto had expected. 

(Sis kept trusting Akechi with so much more that it made Makoto’s stomach churn with envy. Sis had no idea, of course, but Sis relied on Akechi in a way that Makoto could never, ever hope to achieve.) 

Makoto clutched the duffel bag tighter. Akechi glanced down at her trembling hands, before pursing his lips together in confusion.

Akechi wasn’t the sweet, pleasant boy that he so desperately tried to act like on TV. Makoto knew that perhaps better than anyone else as she stared back at him. His arms remained stiff at his side, as if he had been repeating a script he had memorized by heart. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of her presence – and frankly, neither was she. 

If she had had her way, she wouldn’t be here. Then again, she supposed that Akechi wouldn’t try anything foolish in Sis’s office. The two were at a stalemate, and they both knew it. 

“You can set it down.” Akechi gestured towards the couch, “I’m sure it’s pretty heavy.”

“I’m fine,” Makoto insisted, setting the bag down by the sofa in its usual place anyway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

By Prosecutor standards, Sis’s office was fairly barebones. On the left side, Sis had purchased a tall black bookshelf filled with legal texts and borrowed materials relevant to her cases. In front of it, she had placed a rather comfortable couch that could fit two or three visitors; and a desk with two armchairs for any potential client. Her legal degree hung on the opposite wall, while curtains blocked potential light from outside. 

Akechi must’ve spent plenty of hours on her couch: his books are littered across the office’s lone coffee table, with a textbook open to one chapter and a notebook crammed to the brim with annotations and ‘key items’. 

His gaze followed hers, and in a swift motion, he reached to close his notebook with an apologetic laugh. “It’s been a long night, as I’m sure you’re aware…”

“Number five’s wrong.”

Akechi snapped to attention, with genuine surprise coloring his voice– “No, it’s not.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Makoto sat down at the edge of the couch, grabbing a nearby pencil to add her own annotations to Akechi’s notes. “If you wanted to solve that problem, it would be way easier to use this formula instead. Like um…”

As she wrote the answer, Akechi sat down beside her. His eyebrows furrowed into deep thought as he listened to her explanation, and for a couple of long seconds, Makoto almost regretted her intrusion. 

“I see.” Akechi exhaled, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned in to read her handwriting. “How careless of me.” 

His lack of distance had been more careless. His ability to intrude upon her space– to exist so closely, with his shoulder almost bumping up against her arm– is far worse than an incorrect Calculus problem. 

Had Makoto more common sense, she would have excused herself and ended the conversation there. They were currently Phantom Thieves, working in tandem to infiltrate Sis’s Palace, but that common goal was all they shared. 

That said, Akechi’s exhaustion was palpable. Concealer couldn’t quite hide the weariness under his eyes, let alone the careless mistakes littered all over his homework. 

Makoto had already counted four or five, and that was _before_ she was scrutinizing his homework with her full attention. She had expected such behavior from Ryuji or maybe Ann, but never Akechi. His general demeanor and sharp wit had given credence to a brain behind his TV appearances. 

Tonight just had to prove her assumptions wrong. For the first time, Makoto had seen Akechi's schoolwork, and she suddenly understood just why Sis had forced her to stay home and act like a good honor student. Distractions like TV appearances and high-profile criminal cases took precedence over academics. Distractions led to careless, fatal mistakes. Distractions would also inevitably lead to failure in all of the above, if Akechi weren't careful. 

Makoto couldn’t leave him like this. Not when he so desperately needed someone to watch over him. 

“You’ve had a long night,” she chose to remind him instead. “Mistakes happen when you’re not thinking. Just means you need some more sleep.”

Akechi blinked at the generous lifeline. “Sleep. Right. As if any of us could manage that, with our busy schedules...” 

“Well, seeing as you’ll be here a while…” Makoto tucked her hair behind her ears, surveying Akechi’s books for his Calculus textbook. “We might as well review this chapter together. It’ll be good for me too.” 

A flash of indignation surfaced on Akechi’s face. Yet his honeyed voice had returned her remark with, “I suppose it would, wouldn’t it?” 

His hands, however, were trembling as he gripped his things; his fingertips still shaking in anger. 

Akechi’s passive-aggressive insult from June rang in her ears again. According to him, she was a good girl who rolled over and did whatever the adults wanted. She was a ‘pushover’. She was weak. 

Her so-called weakness, however, had still netted her better grades, and in turn, the chance to school the infamous Detective Prince in one of his weaker subjects. Ryuji was a lost cause, and truthfully, their leader wasn’t much better, but Akechi? Oh, Akechi had chosen to wedge his vitriol into her very bones.

This ‘pushover’ would prove her worth. She would sit down and re-instruct him on the basics until he could recite these formulas in his sleep. 

Just what else was he doing, if his schoolwork had fallen to the wayside? What brutal secrets or demands had the mastermind forced on Akechi’s already demanding schedule? 

Makoto had no way of knowing. Not without prying further into his iron guard. 

“Come on, Akechi-kun,” she teased, giving him a smile usually reserved for the other Thieves. “We’re teammates now. This is what we do: we help each other out. Especially around exam time.” 

Akechi swallowed, peering back at Makoto with an unreadable expression. 

Makoto can’t remember the last time someone had looked at her like that – as if she were a puzzle to be solved, with pieces that weren’t quite sliding into place. As if he were trying to unravel her very core, with a glint in his eyes that didn’t suit the false identity he had claimed for himself.

Akechi’s danger lingered behind his masked smiles and pitched-up voice; after all, he had ulterior motives for contacting the Thieves, and even more sinister motives for working alongside them. Once they stole Sis’s Treasure, he would pin everything on them: the mental shutdowns, Okumura-san’s father’s death, _everything_. 

The Charismatic Ace Detective would come out ahead, and the Thieves would fade into urban legends and utter obscurity– or so Akechi must’ve believed. 

Makoto wasn’t going to give Akechi any evidence to the contrary. Yet part of her wondered, as Akechi took a slow, deep breath, if she had played the wrong card and revealed every trick up her sleeve. If she had revealed that she knew how thin his façade really was, and if she had revealed that she knew what dangers were lurking underneath his shallow waters. (And frankly, how every atom in her body was still telling her to stay and help anyway.)

“Yeah, of course,” Akechi murmured instead, with disbelief coloring his voice. His false, honeyed voice cracked at, “Teammates. How could I have forgotten?”

“You _are_ pretty tired,” Makoto chose to admit, with a laugh. As if she hadn't heard the disbelief; as if she hadn't seen the truth behind his pleasantries. “We also haven’t been working together that long, but… I hope you can find a balance between your studies and your duties.” 

A rare, almost-genuine smile crossed Akechi’s face– “So do I, Niijima-san.” 

Makoto fought back the urge to laugh (to feel relief, to feel anything except a desire to help him succeed academically) as she crossed her ankles. “May that day happen sooner rather than later. Let’s see… what page should we turn to…” 

“246.” Akechi’s skepticism had given way to resigned acceptance. “We’re currently at Chapter 12. I haven’t attended class in a few days, but I have my teacher’s print-outs right here.”

Makoto accepted the leaflet as if it were a precious Treasure – and in another life, it might have been. At this moment, however, it’s an olive branch; they’re not quite friends, and they’re not quite enemies either. 

She dared to ask, as she marked important passages, “I hope your time with the Thieves haven't interrupted your studies?”

“Not at all.” Akechi glanced at her with mild confusion. “If anything, you've all kept me on track. It... helps, to have a group that's so open about their work and extracurriculars.”

“They're rather good at distractions, though, aren't they?”

Akechi allowed himself a laugh, with the edges of his eyes actually crinkling with amusement. “Yes. I suspect Sakamoto-san and Takamaki-san have mastered the fine art of escapism by now.”

“If only they could put that same amount of effort into their homework...”

Makoto could sit like this forever, pretending that they're just Makoto and Akechi: two tired kids trying to master Calculus for their upcoming Winter exams.

Their study session lasted most of the night, as they continued to review the chapter together with extra sheets of notebook paper. Together, they worked through example problems and argued over the correct method to use each formula. With time, Akechi's carelessness and exhaustion gave way to correct answers and a solid approach to each problem. However, Makoto couldn't stop noticing that cold, calculating, expression in Akechi’s eyes– and her stomach wouldn't stop churning in uncertainty. 

At the end of the day, they were rivals. She would do well to remember that.

She just wished, deep down, that maybe they could’ve found some common ground instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2020's MakoGoro week, specifically around the prompt ' _confession_ ,' even if this confession is one Makoto makes to herself more than anything. 
> 
> This rarepair is one I've admired from afar for a while, but never really got around to writing for until now! I want to say this is set during Sae's Palace; some nebulous time where Detective Prince Akechi is in full swing, while Makoto _knows_ his behavior is all an act... and still hangs around him anyway. 
> 
> Lightly edited and beta'ed by Jay and Steph, so once again, many thanks to them for the help and inspiration ♥


End file.
